


A night on the town

by heronlibra



Category: Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Comissioned fic!, F/F, not the lesbians, rated teen for alcohol, sfw, the lesbians are not worthy of being rated teen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2020-12-28 17:21:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21140372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heronlibra/pseuds/heronlibra
Summary: Bernadetta has second thoughts. Dorothea knows exactly what she wants. Shamir and Catherine are the cool older lesbians watching them both flounder. Commissioned fic!





	1. Honey and Liquor

**Author's Note:**

> This ship is growing on me. Bernie is so cute!

The wind howled against Dorothea as she and Bernadetta drove through the city on her dark purple motorcycle, the smaller woman burying her face against Dorothea’s back and admiring the scent of her lavender and pinewood perfume. Dorothea was wearing a helmet at least so that her long dark hair wouldn’t hit her passenger in the face, and her grip on the motorcycle’s handles was tight. Bernadetta wasn’t normally one to go out for a night on the town, but Dorothea had asked so sincerely that the anxious woman couldn’t help but agree. They pull to a stop outside of a little hole in the wall bar and Bernadetta is the first to climb off the motorbike and fluff out her short hair. Dorothea follows suit, shaking her long, dark hair free of the helmet’s confines. Bernadetta can’t help but stare, cheeks lightly flushed, hands curled against her chest. 

“Wasn’t too windy for you, was it, Queen B?” 

“What? Oh! No, no, it was fine. Are you really sure that I’ll be welcome here? I don’t drink or anything, I don’t even like alcohol and maybe they don’t sell non alcoholic drinks, maybe I’m just going to embarrass you and oh gods I should have stayed home and —“ 

Bernadetta’s anxious rambling is cut short by a gloved finger against her lips, and Dorothea’s laughter, making the shorter woman quiet. 

“You know I think you’re adorable when you’re fumbling over yourself like that, right?” She winks and Bernadetta feels her breath catch in her throat as she looks away, mouth turned down into a frown. 

“S-stop teasing me, Dorothea …”

“Teasing you? Why, Bernadetta! I’m a woman who only tells the truth! Especially when I’m with someone as cute as you! Now come on, let’s go and have some fun!” 

Bernadetta tries to protest again but she is not quick enough to evade Dorothea grabbing her hand and pulling her along, into the bar. Hot but not humid, the dim lighting and the mostly empty seats make the anxious young woman twist her hand against the hem of her shirt as Dorothea looks right at home. Wait, this was …

Surveying the room, Bernadetta found that not a single man was in sight. It eased some of her worries, but then increased others.   
“D— Dorothea?” She squeaked, clearly looking for an answer. 

Dorothea turned around once they got to a more private booth, “Yes, queen B?”

“Th-this bar is …”

“Full of women?” She winks and giggles as Bernadetta feels her heart do flips in her stomach. “I remembered you saying you’d go drinking as long as there were no men around to leer at you, and so I instantly thought of this place! Isn’t it great, queen B? It’s one of the best lesbian bars in all of Fódlan.”

Bernadetta exhales softly. Dorothea would know just where to take her to ease her nerves. She was the most perfect woman in all of Fódlan, and Bernadetta was, well … herself. A nobody with big expectations on her shoulders, a nervous nelly with no future except being married off to some man to pop out babies once every few years. Thinking about it when Dorothea had taken her to such a nice place however made Bernadetta feel self conscious. She shook her head as her friend ordered a sugary drink, and decided what she herself wanted to have. Nothing dangerous about getting a strawberry-lime margarita … Right? She twisted her skirt in her hands, glancing up at the brunette every once in a while. How she could look so calm and collected while twirling strands of dark hair in her fingers was a mystery to Bernadetta.

“Decided on what you want yet, honey?” The songstress asks, making the shy girl jump and nod, blushing furiously. “J-just … the strawberry-lime margarita!” She squeaks, cursing the crack in her voice and the sweatiness of her palms. Thankfully, Dorothea orders for them. Bernadetta just stares at her for a moment, looking at the slope of her rounded nose, her pretty green eyes, her red, red lipstick, and wonders if Dorothea would wear flavored chapstick. Cherry, or maybe something more subtle, that left the taste of the other woman lingering after she pulled her face away and —

Bernadetta’s thoughts were disrupted by a loud greeting, making her jolt in her seat as she looked up to see none other than Shamir and Catherine making their way over. Oh no. Oh, no. 

She shrunk as the louder of the married couple greeted them.

“Hey, girls! Out for a fun night on the town too, huh?” Catherine asked. She had her strong, toned arm around Shamir’s waist and her free one was sitting on her broad hip. Shamir’s arms were crossed, and she was keeping quiet except for the glance at Catherine every now and again.

Dorothea, knowing that Bernadetta wouldn’t say anything, just smiled. “We are, professor Catherine — and Shamir! It’s a quiet day and this is her first time doing anything like this, and, well …”

Shamir nodded. “Good day to come out and have some fun. But don’t party too hard. I expect to see you both in my classroom bright and early with your usual exhausted faces.”

Goddess, what a power couple they were. Bernadetta watched with some shred of jealousy as Catherine laughed, loud and boisterous, half sweeping the shorter woman off her feet. “Come on Shamir, you’re only young once! Cut them some slack.”

Blushing, the woman from Dagda places her palm against Catherine’s dark face and pushes just a little, enough to be annoying, but not enough to hurt or anything. “Cut that out. You’re going to wrinkle my shirt.” Seeing the two of them makes Bernadetta feel the slightest bit better about being here, since she would die of embarrassment if a stranger came up to Dorothea to talk to her. It wasn’t like she was popular already, but being seen at a lesbian bar … Though it was 2019, she still felt the shame of liking girls bite her in the neck sometimes. Bernadetta fiddles with her sleeves, tugging them down as Dorothea, ever elegant, raises her hand to her mouth to giggle. Gods, how was she real?

“Of course, professor Shamir! Right, Queen B?” She nudges the other girl’s side and Bernadetta squeaks out a hurried ‘yup,’ swallowing hard. Catherine looks between them for a moment, and a sly grin parts her lips. 

“Ahh, I see. Well, Shammy!”  
“Shamir.”  
“We should leave them alone! We have our own date to get back to, after all.”

Oops. There’s an awkward pause and Bernadetta laughs frantically, high pitched and terrified. Dorothea’s smile becomes pained. “H — haha! Y-yeah, we’re not — we’re not on a —“

“See you later, professors!” Dorothea cut her off and for a moment, Bernadetta thought there was a hurt look in the songstress’ green eyes. Was it just her imagination, or …? There was no way that someone like Dorothea Arnault would want to go on a date with shy, awkward, clumsy, anxious little Bernie. Right? Catherine steers Shamir away to another table, and there’s now an awkward silence between the two friends. Did she fuck this up already? Was it possible to feel even worse about something? Bernadetta’s stomach does a flip in her body, and she tries to think about literally anything else to get her mind off the pained look in Dorothea’s eyes. 

“D-Dorothea? I’m … I’m sorry, I panicked …”  
“Huh? Oh, Queen B! I know, I know.” And when the brunette pats Bernadetta’s hand, she revels in the warmth and softness of the other young woman’s skin. “No harm done! Now let’s enjoy ourselves!” With a wink, she stands up to go and order their drinks, leaving a very confused, and very worried Bernadetta to sit in her own thoughts for a few minutes.


	2. The Drama of it all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, they’re honest with each other. Dorothea is forward, Bernadetta is ... Bernadetta.

Dorothea’s heart felt wounded as she approached the counter, leaning over it to ask the very pretty feminine woman behind it to get them two drinks started. It’s not a date, Bernadetta had squeaked out. It wasn’t? That was news to her, and she hadn’t been expecting to be so affected by the declaration from her classmate — and crush’s — words. If it wasn’t a date, why had Dorothea bothered to wear her finest, low cut black shirt, her nicest leather jacket, and her cute, but functional deep purple skirt (with shorts on under it, of course.) Even her bra was deliberate, a shock of scarlet underneath the fabric of her upper body’s clothes. She’d curled her hair, trimmed her nails, done her makeup, adjusted her hat several times …  
Was it all for nothing? Oh, shy little Bernadetta. Dorothea steals a glance at her to see her mess of purple hair and the phone in her hands, her tiny, smooth little hands. Oh, she was so cute. Dorothea longed to run a hand through her short lavender locks and leave her cherry red lipstick against her pale cheeks, decorating her in a way that added color to her otherwise black and gray outfit. She could imagine Bernadetta just squealing in delight and half in anxiety, making Dorothea smile just a little. But it wasn’t a date. She had to remember that.  
“Ma’am?”  
“Oh, goodness me! Thank you so much, darling. You’re a peach!” The songstress winked as she picked up both drinks, returning to the booth and giving Bernadetta hers.  
“Here you are, Bernie!”  
The nickname made Bernadetta pause and look up from grabbing it. Not Queen B anymore, she seemed to ask?  
“Uh … thanks! W-what did you get?”  
“Mm? Oh, just a non-alcoholic cocktail. I have to drive after this, you know!” She laughed, and Bernadetta smiled. Dorothea felt her heart ache even more at the sight of her favorite, mousy little friend relaxing enough to be herself. Deliberately, or maybe by accident, the songstress reaches over to brush some of Bernadetta’s tussled hair from her face and watches the blush spread across her face like a deep red wildfire. “Sorry, you had it kind of covering your eyes.” She stated with a wink, cursing herself internally. She’s not interested, maybe she doesn’t even like women. But gods, did she yearn. She yearned to just take Bernadetta’s hands and kiss her like she’d been yearning for months and months. Part of her wished she’d ordered alcohol, just to make the heartache go away.  
But she’s startled out of it when Bernadetta takes the initative and places her dainty little hand over the songstress’. “Um … Dorothea?”  
“Yes, Bernie?” She asked with a flutter of her eyelashes, trying not to look too smitten.  
“... did I m-make you … upset?”  
Oh. Oh no. That wasn’t the question she anticipated hearing. Dorothea found herself opening and closing her mouth, blushing pink and looking away to fake a cough.  
“Whaaaat? Me? Upset with YOU?” It was weird to feel flustered — After all, she was normally the suave one. “Well maybe just a little bit! But not with you, Bernie.” The smaller woman squirmed in her seat and took a big drink of her margarita, making her sputter a little as she tried to work out internally what that meant, precisely.  
“Th … then what … is it because I said this isn’t a da —“  
“Hey, this is my favorite song!”  
Deliberately, Dorothea cuts her off to hum along to whatever was playing on the radio in the background. “You know this one, don’t you? It’s super popular!” She watched Bernadetta’s thin brows knit together in frustration and a little in confusion, reveling in how cute the pout on her lips really was. Bernadetta didn’t wear much makeup, and Dorothea figured it was because she didn’t want to look at her own face for too long. They were polar opposites, really. Extroverted, friendly, popular Dorothea. Introverted, shy, antisocial, self loathing Bernadetta. Dorothea found herself wondering if people would talk if they actually ever got together.  
She wouldn’t care. The songstress knew her anxious crush was sweet as candy, tougher than nails, and talented, very, very talented.  
“... Dorothea … Um …”  
“Mmhm?”  
Bernadetta took a big drink of her alcohol for liquid courage as it made her cheeks burn even pinker. Or was it because she was working herself up to say something?  
“I … I didn’t mean what I said! If, if you — if you want to call this a d, a da, a ddddaaaa … teeee …”  
Oh no. Dorothea’s face was starting to burn red and she looked away to drink her own fruity non-alcoholic cocktail.  
“THEN I’d behappytoconsiderthisonetoo!” Bernadetta blurted out, and then covered her mouth with her hands. Dorothea, with no other elegant way to describe this, choked on her drink and sputtered for a minute or two.  
“What? For real?!”  
“Ohgods. Y .. no? Maybe?”  
“Oh, Bernadetta!”  
Laughing, Dorothea took both of Bernadetta’s hands and smiled. Radiant, angelic in Bernadetta’s eyes. The poor anxious thing felt her brain melting just a little.  
“I would love to call this a date. Hadn’t you noticed how I dressed up? I’ve really really liked you for a long time, you know.”  
And there it was. The half squeal of confusion, the hiding of her face in her elbow, the blush that traveled all the way across her face, to parts of her neck, and to her ears. Bernadetta was really, really adorable.  
“I l-l-l-like, I liked y-yo-yoouuuUU TOO!”  
Dorothea laughs. “Then it IS a date. Oh, I’m so relieved! Now I can give you as much affection as I want!”  
“NoooOOOO!”  
“No?!?”  
“I mean - I meant - If you w-want to —“  
A few tables away, they heard Catherine and Shamir stifle their laughter.  
“Hmm. Maybe later. I know you’re anxious about being out here, Queen B.” Bernadetta’s thin shoulders slackened with relief and she finally unhid her crimson face.  
“... you’re the best.”  
“I know.”  
And Dorothea couldn’t help but smile. It seems all her worrying had been for nothing after all! She leaned in, and watched Bernadetta’s breath catch in her throat, her eyes widen, her hand curl into a fist, as she pressed one red, red kiss against the other woman’s cheek.  
…  
And then, Bernadetta fainted at the table.


	3. Dancing in the bar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bernie’s okay. Dorothea’s in love. They’re lesbians, harold!

It smelled like a warm winter’s night in her unconscious state. A burning wood fire, cozy and inviting. The first thing Bernadetta felt was someone’s hair tickling her nose and then, the distinct feeling of a soft hand on her cheek. Slowly, she opened her grey eyes to see Dorothea above her, with Catherine and Shamir hovering near their table. Her head was on the songstress’ lap, and one of the brunette’s hands was in her hair, the other resting on her cheek. She smiled, and Bernadetta felt her heart leap into her throat.

“There’s my Bernie. Sorry, that was too much, huh?” Bernadetta tried to remember how to talk as her face flushed with both embarrassment and adoration. Catherine exhaled loudly and Shamir nudged her side. 

“You scared us, kiddo! We just heard you collapse at the table. Is everything alright?” Catherine asked as Shamir tried to get the shy girl to drink some water, Dorothea helping her sit up enough to sip at it. They were all worried … about her? Why?

“I — I’m okay! That … happens a lot.”

“I told you she’d be fine.” Shamir grumbled, crossing her arms and turning away. In a lot of ways, Shamir reminded her of Felix, but nicer. Way nicer. And a lot less physical. 

“I’m sorry, sweetie.” Dorothea cooed, giving her an apologetic smile. Bernadetta swallowed hard, touching her cheek to find that the lipstick was still there. And she smiled at the thought, making Dorothea’s face burn too.

“N-no! You didn’t — That wasn’t your fault, uh, h …” Could she say it with those two so close by? “H … honeeeeeey?” Her voice rose a couple octaves as she tried out the nickname, and watched in delight as Dorothea’s cheeks burned brighter.

“Oh, you are  _ so _ cute, Bernadetta!”

Shamir tugged on her wife’s arm, nodding her head wordlessly towards their table.

“Glad you’re okay! If you two need anything else, we’ll be right over there.”

“Catherine’ll be your designated sober person.”

“What?! Me? Hey! Shamir!”

Bernadetta couldn’t help but laugh, her shoulders shaking in both amusement and slightly in anxiety. Dorothea helped her sit up fully, so that she could drink more of her water and finish off her strawberry drink. She didn’t know what to say. Did she have a girlfriend now? Did Dorothea know what to do with the awkward silence? She kind of liked the sensation of the other woman’s hands on her face, but would Bernadetta ever verbalize that? Hardly. She swallowed more water, before fiddling with the straw in her drink. The song that was playing was gentle and soft, and it felt like they were the only two people in the world. Was that what love  _ really _ felt like? Bernadetta had written it, but experiencing it for herself was … mesmerising. 

“D-Dorothea?”

“Yeah, Queen B?”

“Do - do you want to - to dance!?”

That had thrown the brunette for a loop. Bernadetta fiddled with her jacket as she watched the other woman think about it before her face broke into a smile, greatly easing any anxieties she had. 

“Oh, sweetie, I would  _ love _ to! Though that’s not just the alcohol making you feel brave, is it?” She teased, leaning over to caress Bernadetta’s cheek and the smaller woman couldn’t help but glance down at her bright red bra strap peeking out over her shoulder. Gods, she was lucky. But what she didn’t know was Dorothea thought  _ she _ was the lucky one in this situation.

“No! I — I want to dance — With you! H-here, right now! Before I lose my nerve …” 

Dorothea stole a kiss on her forehead, marking her again with that cherry red lipstick. But this time, Bernadetta didn’t keel over. If anything, it made her look more determined.

“Okay. Try not to think about anyone else in here when we’re over by the music box, okay?”

“O-okay!” Bernadetta rued the squeak, the voice crackle when she agreed, but Dorothea giggled and suddenly, she felt like it wasn’t so bad. Dorothea stood first, and then she held her hand out for Bernadetta to eagerly take in her own. They walked together to the jukebox, Dorothea putting in a few coins to make it play something more upbeat. 

_ Some boys just take a beautiful girl — _

_ And hide her away from the rest of the world! _

_ I want to be the one to walk in the sun _

_ Oh girls, _

_ They just wanna have fun.  _

An old song, but Bernadetta didn’t mind. She held onto Dorothea’s waist, and the taller woman put her hands to Bernadetta’s shoulders as they began to dance. Bernadetta was no professional, and she had to keep herself from stepping on Dorothea’s boots as they twirled around in the bar. But hearing the brunette laugh so sincerely, so sweetly … It made her smile, brighter than anything else in the room as they listened to the beat get quicker and quicker. Bernadetta ended up laughing as they picked up the pace, and it made Dorothea’s heart leap, seeing gloomy little Bernadetta von Varley happy and comfortable enough to not only dance with her, but to smile and laugh the way she did.

“I … um …” During a part where the chorus began to slow down, Dorothea had pulled her close. “I … lo … I love you, Dorothea!! I love you!!”

Critical hit.

Dorothea scooped her up into a big bear hug, nuzzling her cheek against Bernadetta’s and making her wheeze softly at the sudden, but not unwelcome display of affection. “I love you, too! Oh, Bernadetta! Let’s go somewhere fun — Just the two of us! The night is only beginning, after all!”

“Yeah — Wait — huh?”

Catherine watched them leave, her arm hooked around Shamir’s waist as her wife downed another shot of vodka and cranberry juice. “Remember when we were like that, baby?”

“Yeah. You thought you could impress me by bench pressing my dad.”

“Well it worked, didn’t it?”

“.... yeah.”

Outside, the engine of Dorothea’s motorcycle revved and they watched the two depart, reminiscing upon their younger days. “Baby’s first I love you …”

“Ugh. It’s so cute, it’s gonna make me want to adopt a kitten.”

Dorothea felt the weight of Bernadetta against her back as they rode through the town, and knew that everything would be alright, no matter what would come next, because they’d be together. Bernadetta was so happy that she couldn’t care less where they went next — as long as Dorothea was there to hold her hand with her.

_ That’s all they really want — _

_ Some fun _

_ When the working day is done _

_ Oh girls, they wanna have fun _


End file.
